I know I couldn't keep writing in my last post about grieving. That's just wayy too many of my issues for someone to take in. So I apologize.
Actually, I don't. Like I've said before, this is my blog and if something doesn't strike your fancy just skip over it or watch cat videos on YouTube until I decide to be my usual funny, #dgaf self. Thanks.
I kind of left it as if it were a primetime drama where you have to wait until the next episode to find out who really stole syringes from the medical closet or those stupid commercial breaks when Maury is about to reveal who da baby daddy is to some teen mama. Or when that fucker Ryan Seacrest is about to make one American Idol contestant's dream NOT come true.
My 'Grieving Process' post was basically about how I got burned for an unknown reason that is now known to me. Because I established weird communicative grounds with Stretch (you must refer to the link above if you care that much to know). Of course I was still upset weeks following our Two Week "Relationship". Out of nowhere Stretch raped my Facebook life: wrote on my wall at 2am, liked my profile picture, liked my comments to said picture, liked my statuses. Even BBMed me saying "Nice prof pic." But that was it. No explanation to why things ended, no "Sorry" (which would've been fucking nice).To me, it seemed like Stretch frolicked around the city with not a care in the world about being such a douchebag. Clearly, someone doesn't have a spine, surprisingly - Stretch does yoga...a lot. Hence, the nickname.
To shorten things up a bit, Stretch and I still communicate...sporadically, passive-aggressively, frenemy-like. It's weird and it sucks and I guess this is a normal way of communicating with one another when things that are slightly left unsettled, brushed under the rug. And that annoyed me. It was like Stretch was saying, "Hey! It looks like you're doing well. So, maybe we can just forget about it as if it never happened and kind of be friends when I feel like I'm not getting enough attention from you." #harsh but what do you expect?
I've actually seen Stretch twice since all of this fuckness. It wasn't awkward as I thought it would be. It was nice. As if nothing changed. But it has. Again, it sucks but it's whatever. I still feel like we're playing games and we are. I know we are. Ugh. It just doesn't make sense to me as to why I'm still "friends" with someone who clearly shit on me and moved on faster than I could blink in astonishment. I'm quite messed up, I know.
Situations like this have helped me realize that everyone needs to act like an asshole or a bitch once in a while to get points across. And I guess that's what I'm doing. I care but I don't (or at least shouldn't). I'm accepting that things aren't the way I wanted them to be or planned on. I'm moving on...at the speed of a turtle but I luckily have an amazing support system who does not like Stretch. And although I receive advice from all angles and added fuel to my fire (clearly my friends are on my side), it's gonna take effort from me, myself, and I to figure this out. And I may never figure shit out. I just have to stop being such a pussy and say what's on my mind.
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